Grime
poem
dusting of time
adhering
every sag
each wrinkle
weighing more
each second
every tick
clinging
bit by click
until
we are
entombed
beneath
the bric-a-brac
history of our passing.
Discussion about this post
No posts
dusting of time
adhering
every sag
each wrinkle
weighing more
each second
every tick
clinging
bit by click
until
we are
entombed
beneath
the bric-a-brac
history of our passing.
No posts
Time doesn’t just pass. It settles on us, little by little, until what we’ve lived becomes part of who we are.